


When it Comes to Us

by QueenOfGlacia



Series: Yuri!!! on Ice AU's [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Author Victor Nikiforov, Background Otayuri, Background Relationships, Barista Katsuki Yuuri, Barista Phichit Chulanont, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Wingman Phichit Chulanont, background MichEmil, sharing food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-02 14:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12728505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfGlacia/pseuds/QueenOfGlacia
Summary: Five times Victor gives fake (superhero) names, and the one time he doesn't





	1. 5 + 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following prompt:
> 
> you give me a different fake name every time you come into starbucks and I just want to know your real name bc ur cute but here I am scrawling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino
> 
> \---
> 
> Title is from "When it Comes to Us" by Frances and R I T U A L

**_I._**  
  
The silver-haired man first arrives on a snowy December morning. His dark coat is littered with large snowflakes, making it seem like his hair bled stardust over it.   
Yuuri is _not_ staring; no matter what Phichit tells him after.  
  
“I’ll have a trenta peppermint mocha frappucino to go please,” the man orders, not even looking at the board. His gaze is focused on his phone until Yuuri asks what name to put on the cup, and when their eyes meet Yuuri can feel his heart stop for a moment. It means he doesn’t hear the gasp the other man lets out, but Yuuri does notice a hesitation and a dazed look before the silver man gives a name.  
  
“ **Storm** ,” is the name Yuuri gets, and he can barely stop himself from lifting an eyebrow, wondering if the man meant that as in the weather, or as in that’s what Yuuri will have Phichit write on the cup. It feels wrong to ask him to repeat it, so Yuuri asks him if he wants anything else - he doesn’t - and then tells him the cost.   
  
The man pays too much, insists Yuuri keep the change, gets his drink once it’s done and then leaves, still looking dazed.   
  
“Are you sure he’s not Ororo?” Phichit asks Yuuri once that man’s left.   
“What?” Yuuri sounds like he can’t believe what just happened.   
“Look at the facts, Yuuri; he said ‘ **Storm** ’ when you asked which name to write on the cup, he is got silver hair that somehow looks perfect despite the weather, **and** he ordered the biggest iced coffee we sell, despite it being cold as shit outside. Who even does that?!”  
“Yeah.” The word escapes Yuuri like a dreamy sigh, and it does not go unnoticed by Phichit.  
  
The coffee shop is thankfully empty, as Phichit starts jumping up and down, almost knocking over several things in the narrow space between the counters, not even stopping when a gaggle of teenage girls comes inside to order gingerbread lattes. Instead, Phichit continues his dance, putting on a little show for them as he writes their names in fancy lettering.   
  
After that, the shop fills up as people stop by on their way home from school and work, and so Phichit and Yuuri can’t find the time to talk until they get home to their flat.   
  
“So,” Phichit starts as soon as they’re inside the door. “Were you trying to imprint his features onto your glasses to look at later on?”  
“Phichit!” Yuuri spluttered in indignation, the colour on his cheeks having nothing to do with the cold December air. Phichit just grins at him knowingly, and Yuuri is reminded of just how dangerous his best friend can be when he sets his mind to something.  
“You should give him your number next time.”  
“You say that like it’ll even be a next time! He is never been by before, so he probably doesn’t even live in this area.” _Besides,_ Yuuri adds to himself, _he’ll never notice me back._  
  
**_II._**  
  
“One venti eggnog frappuccino blended creme to go please.”  
“What name should I put on the cup?” Yuuri asks, full well remembering what he said last time, but asking again as it’s required. Not that Yuuri actually remembers anyone’s name normally, but this man is an exception.  
“ **Supergirl** ,” he says when asked for a name, completely deadpan.  
  
He’s told the cost, pays too much, then leaves. Yuuri wonders if this is how it’s going to be; the two of them exchanging the barest amount of words, the stranger giving only names of superheroes before tipping Yuuri a ridiculous amount and then leaving.  
  
Still, maybe it’ll be _their thing_ , despite the fact that this is only the second time the stranger’s come by and they’re no closer to exchanging neither proper names nor numbers.  
Yuuri scoffs and shakes his head at the idea;it’s just too absurd that there’ll ever be a _thing_ between him and the handsome stranger. After all, Yuuri is a chubby barista who wear dorky glasses and blends into crowds, while the other man is a shining beacon who talks animatedly on the phone when waiting for his beverage and can’t be overlooked in any way by anyone.   
  
That night Yuuri is the one who decides to stop by a bar on their way home from work. He knows he should be careful with his drinking (acting like his own dad when he gets drunk is _not funny Phichit_!), but once again he is managed to talk himself down during the day, and he figures a little liquid courage can’t hurt.   
  
Of course, when liquid courage gets paired with his anxiety as well as Phichit, things tend to spiral out of control. Yuuri drinks more than he wanted to - _a lot_ more - as a group of women have a bachelorette party and find Phichit and Yuuri “so fucking adoooorable!” (especially when Yuuri blushes) that they can’t help but buy them drinks. Phichit repays them with stories of (drunken) shenanigans as well as his hamsters. Yuuri goes on and on about the handsome stranger that only ever gives superhero names as he orders, and the women coo over him and offers him more drinks so he can forget all about that “silver-haired angel with eyes like the sky on a clear winter day”.  
  
\---  
  
Yuuri wakes up with a raging headache, and a bright pink sash across his torso that says “honorary bridesmaid” in Phichit’s (drunken, scrawled) handwriting. At least still remembers the night before the next day. Well, parts of it anyways, and Phichit assures him he didn’t do - or say - anything embarrassing.   
  
**_III._**  
  
**Cyclops** is the name the third time, which is fitting seeing as the man wears an eyepatch over one eye. It doesn’t seem like he is otherwise dressed up, so Yuuri assumes he must’ve hurt his eye somehow, and hopes he’s doing okay and that his eye will be fine. Despite that, the intensity of his stare doesn’t lessen; in fact it seems all the more intense now, as if it’s all gathered into the one eye that’s not damaged.  
  
This time he orders a salted caramel mocha frappuccino, and Yuuri wonders if the man simply doesn’t know what kind of beverage he likes, seeing as he orders a different one each time he comes by; the only common thing being that he only orders frappuccinos.  
  
If Yuuri were brave, he’d ask what happened to his eye, but the question gets stuck in his throat and then the stranger’s left again.   
  
“What do you think happened to his eye?” Yuuri asks Phichit once the door closes. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”  
“Heaven forbid something would happen to those ‘ _divine blue eyes that looks like you can drown in them_ ’, eh, Yuuri?” Phichit asks in a mock-serious tone.   
“Phichit!” Yuuri blushes, looking scandalized as he looks through the coffee shop, hoping no one overheard his best friend. The traitor. “You promised!”  
  
In return, Phichit gives him a ‘ _who, me?_ ’ look. Okay, fine, _maaaaaaybe_ he had promised not to bring up Yuuri’s drunken, lovelorn ramblings about the guy’s hair and eyes and smile, or how he always tipped too much, or how Yuuri worried he’d stop coming and so he’d never learn the handsome stranger’s real name. And so on and so forth.   
  
“Yuuuuriiiii, this is how I show affection! You know this!” Yuuri just glares back at him until Phichit decides it’s best to not bring it up again.  
  
Yuuri spends the rest of his day trying his best to ignore his best friend’s attempts to cheer him up, to not worry about the stranger, and to - finally - talk to Phichit again and promise he is not mad he brought up his (drunken) ramblings (again).  
  
**_IV._**  
  
“ **Batman** ,” the stranger says as he orders a cappuccino., voice dark and low, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth,threatening to turn into a grin. This time he stays, pulling out a laptop and typing away for what seems like minutes but turns out to be over two hours.Yuuri could stare at him forever; the way his tongue darts out to catch the foam on his upper lip, the way his long fingers flies effortlessly across the keyboard. By the time he leaves, his table is littered with four cups of cappuccino; three in addition to the one he ordered when he arrived, and two empty plates that had previously held a sandwich and brownie square.  
  
It’s barely spring, but the day is uncharacteristically warm, so it figures _this_ should be the day he goes for a warm beverage.   
  
What Phichit notices but Yuuri doesn’t, is that while the man’s typing away, he steals looks at Yuuri every chance he gets. Phichit also notices that the man doesn’t notice Phichit notice him in return. Phichit also realises he should expand his vocabulary.   
  
He buys a dictionary on their way home from work.   
  
\---  
  
Phichit spends their days off looking up words in the dictionary, hamsters perched on his shoulders and around him, trying his best to keep them from stealing pages to turn into nesting materials.   
  
Yuuri is so used to Phichit and his various ideas that he doesn’t even question why he is reading a dictionary as if it were an ordinary - and exciting - book; he just leaves him be except when he needs to remind his friend that he needs to eat, sleep and stretch his legs.   
  
“As you say mom,” Phichit replies, and Yuuri just rolls his eyes and smiles at him affectionately.   
  
**_V._**  
  
**Black Widow** is the fifth name, and like the last time he stays there for hours - more than three this time. Again, he spends the whole time typing, stealing looks at Yuuri as often as he can. By the time he leaves, Yuuri clears his table of no less than six cups of coffee - cappuccino again - and four plates that once held a scone, a panini, a coffee cake and a fox cookie.  
  
Now, the thing is that he shows up at random intervals; there seems to be no pattern as to how long it takes for him to show up again. It’s been two weeks, then four and a half weeks, followed by three weeks, and now he’s shown up again after just two days. Not that Yuuri’s counting the days or anything.  
  
To Yuuri, it feels like things are changing. The past two visits have been too similar, too close to one another compared to the first three times. He’s not only ordered the same type of coffee twice in a row, as well as something to eat, but the stranger’s staying for hours, not leaving as soon as he is got his beverage.   
  
“I’m not sure you’ve been _comprehending_ this,” Phichit tells him once the man’s left and Yuuri’s cleared the table. “But I’ve been _discerning_ that a certain someone keeps looking at you as often as possible.”  
“Phichit, have you been drinking?” Yuuri looks at his best friend with concern. “You’re not taking too much of that cough medicine are you? I told you not to take more than the bottle says!”  
“What? No! I do know how to listen, you know. And to observe and learn from my findings. And what I’ve _discovered_ , is that the guy you’re head over heels for looks at you whenever you can’t see it, and then he types away even faster than before.”  
  
Yuuri blushes.   
  
“You don’t know that!”  
“Yuuri, I’ve watched him watch you. Trust me on this.” Phichit places his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “I know you’re like _the most_ oblivious guy around, but _I_ can _perceive_ things you don’t.”  
“Did you memorize the vocabulary you bought yet?” Yuuri asks, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.   
  
Phichit looks at him knowingly, refusing to let his friend change the subject.   
  
“Yuuri, you’re my best friend and I love you, but you honestly need to believe in yourself. And believe in me, that I would never lie to you. The way he looks at you, it’s clear he likes you. Think about it! He may be just as shy as you are, wondering how to ask you out!”  
“You don’t honestly believe that, do you Phichit?”  
“Yuuri,” Phichit sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell you this, but I asked the others who work here if they’ve ever seen him before. A couple of them says he’s been by but he’s never ordered anything. Only does when you’re here. That’s no coincidence Yuuri. He is here because of you!”  
  
Yuuri only shakes his head, his low self-confidence and lack of self-esteem refusing him any possibility of believing his best friend.   
  
**_+I_**  
  
“Victor.”  
“Huh?” Yuuri replies, cursing himself for appearing so unprofessional. The stranger with superhero names stands in front of him; Yuuri having been too lost in dreams to have noticed him come in.  
“My name. It’s Victor.”  
“Oh! What will it be today then, Victor?”  
“You.” Victor cocks his head to the side, a smirk on his lips as he intently studies the blush creeping up on Yuuri’s face.  
  
Yuuri’s jaw almost hits the floor.   
“I’m.. sorry, what?”  
“I want to take you out on a date.”   
  
Yuuri knows he should reply, but he is sure his brain must have short-circuited, or maybe he fell; slipping on spilled coffee, or maybe he is dreaming again. Surely Phichit hadn’t been right the day before?  
  
“He’ll be delighted to! Yuuri gets off in an hour, so if you want a coffee while you wait, I’ll be happy to make you what you want!” Phichit chimes in, so close behind Yuuri that he manages to step on Phichit’s foot as he jumps back in surprise.  
  
“Great!” The man - Victor - exclaims, a heart shaped smile on his face, eyes sparkling like a lagoon in sunshine. “Then I’ll have one…”  
“Cappuccino?” Yuuri asks, voice shaky but professional. Victor’s grin grows larger.  
“You know me so well, Yuuri!”   
  
Yuuri can only stare at Victor in return. ‘ _He knows my name, he knows my name’_ , the sentence rings through his head, over and over again as he does a mental dance, not unlike Phichit’s after Victor’s first visit. Then ‘ _well,_ of course _he knows my name; he just asked me out on a date!’_ Yuuri can barely stop himself from slapping his own forehead; he is such an idiot.   
  
In fact, Yuuri is so far gone that Phichit’s stepped in to ring up Victor’s order, because Yuuri just stands there looking dumbfounded. Phichit ends up shaking him to wake him up from his daydreams about Victor saying his name, over and over and over again, in various (mostly dirty) situations.   
  
“Yuuri! Are you still in there?” Phichit asks him, before Yuuri’s eyes manage to focus on his best friend.   
“Uhm, yeah?” It comes out sounding like a question, Yuuri’s voice seemingly coming from a far-off place. “Why do you ask?”  
“Well, it can’t possibly be because the man you’ve been thirsty as fuck for for the last few months finally managed to gather up his courage to ask you out, now can it?” Phichit raises one eyebrow at him.   
  
When Yuuri still stares at him, looking lost, Phichit softens.   
  
“Listen, Yuuri. If you don’t want to go, I can let him know for you. Answering for you wasn’t right, but I just want you to be happy, okay? Just…”Phichit sighs. “ just know that he is just as nervous as you are. I saw the look on his face when he asked you, how clear it was he’s had to muster his courage to ask you. And how his face fell when you didn’t reply.”  
  
Yuuri takes a deep breath, gathers himself, straightens his back, and then nods at his friend before walking over to Victor with his coffee.  
  
“I would love to go on a date with you Victor,” Yuuri tells him, and if he’d thought Victor’s previous smile had been big, or that his eyes could possibly glow more or look even more intense, well… He’d never been as mistaken before in his life.  
  
When Victor directs all that at Yuuri, it’s as if Yuuri’s entire world lights up. His heart beats faster, his breath quickens, and sparks fly up his arm from where Victor’s fingers grace his when he takes his coffee.  
  
The world narrows until there’s only him and Victor, and Yuuri feels like he could die. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, and how on earth is he supposed to survive a date with Victor?  
  
All Yuuri wants to do at that moment is to lean in and kiss him, but the moment is broken by the chiming of the bell as the door opens, followed by the voices of a group of teenagers stopping by on their way home from school.  
  
Drawing away from Victor, already missing the contact, the closeness, Yuuri smiles at him before returning to his work. ‘ _Later_ ’, he thinks, counting down the minutes in his head until Victor will take him away from the confinement of the coffee shop and broaden their limited space of interaction. 


	2. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor takes Yuuri out on their first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took this long! I went away for a weekend, suddenly got busy, and then got writersblock paired with another bout of depression. Also I don't knowhow to write dates, and I had to figure out the menu to have something to work off of, and then decide the roles of the staff of the restaurant.

Yuuri feels very self-conscious about his looks normally, but now, compared to Victor, he feels like he’s no right to be near the other man.   
  
As always - even when he wore the eyepatch - Victor looks incredible, put-together and unfazed. Yuuri feels wrung out, his emotions messing with his head. He is tired after work, wants nothing more than to go home, take a shower, get dressed and to look presentable for Victor. Yuuri hopes he doesn’t look as tired as he feels, that Victor doesn’t regret asking him out tonight.   
  
“I thought maybe you were hungry, so I hoped you would accompany me to this new restaurant nearby? A friend of mine owns it, and promised me a table. It’s opening night, and I was planning on going either way, but I thought maybe you’d like to come as well? If that’s okay, I mean. They serve european food, meals you can’t get most places outside the countries the dishes are from, but there’s still a lot to choose from.”  
  
Yuuri fidgets with the edge of his shirt sleeve absentmindedly, chewing on his lip. Victor seems to notice, as he stops talking to look Yuuri in the eyes.  
  
“You don’t have to worry about your clothes, you know. It’s a casual place, not something to dress up for. And either way, I know all those who work there; some are even family, and I know they’d understand even if you were underdressed. I’m not that much better dressed myself either.”  
  
It dawns on Yuuri that Victor is nervous. The way the taller man talks too fast, the lilt to his tone betraying he is not really as confident and unfazed as Yuuri first imagined. It’s clear despite the reassuring smile on his face.  
  
“They only serve meals from the countries the owner and employees comes from, as a home-away-from-home type of thing. Makes living here easier for them. And for me.” The last part comes out with a sigh; wistful, longing, and Yuuri feels a pang of homesickness himself. He misses his parents and sister, the hot springs and his mom’s cooking; her katsudon in particular.   
  
“I know how you feel,” Yuuri replies, letting his own homesickness colour his voice. “And I’ll be happy to try out some new food.” _Especially if it comes from where you’re from and you like it._ He doesn’t say the last part out loud, feels it’s too forward, too soon. But he does smile at Victor to show he means it.   
  
The smile on Victor’s face in return brightens the darkness around them and Yuuri feels a swell of pride that _he’s_ the one that brought it forth, that Victor smiles like that because of _him_.  
  
The restaurant isn’t far away, so they decide to walk. They still end up a bit cold, and Yuuri had forgotten to bring his gloves to work that day.   
Victor, of course, notices despite Yuuri’s best efforts to try and hide it.  
  
“Here,” he says, holding out his gloves to Yuuri to put on.  
“But then you’ll be cold instead!” Yuuri belatedly realises he’s now admitted to his hands being cold, but Victor lets the remark slide.  
“I’m Russian; I can take it.” At that remark Yuuri raises one eyebrow at him, trying to tell Victor that he doesn’t believe him. At least now he knows where Victor is from, and it explains the origin of the slight accent he’s noticed.   
“How about this then?” Yuuri’s handed the right glove, whilst Victor puts on the left. Then he reaches out to take Yuuri’s ungloved hand in his own, rubbing small circles with his thumb to get the blood flowing and the warmth back. “Now it’s fair for both of us!”  
  
Unable to stop his blush from rising, Yuuri shakes his head in exasperation, hoping Victor won’t notice.   
They stay quiet until they reach the restaurant, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence for which Yuuri is thankful.   
  
“We’re here,” Victor says as they reach a warmly lit sidewalk, the lights from inside making the outside seem warmer than it is. There’s already a crowd gathered outside, waiting to be let in, but the man at the door recognises Victor and waves him over. They’re still holding hands, so Victor pulls Yuuri with him.  
  
“Hello, uncle.” Victor leans in to give the old man a hug, which catches him off-guard - if Yuuri reads his expression correctly.   
“Vitya,” the man replies. “Have you forgotten your manners, or will you introduce me to your friend?” There’s a slight hesitation before the word _friend,_ leading Yuuri to believe Victor’s uncle knows or suspects more than he lets on.  
“Oh, of course!” Victor exclaims, then pulls on Yuuri’s hand - which he’s somehow still holding on to. “Uncle, this is Yuuri, my favourite barista. Yuuri, this is my grand-uncle Nikolai.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Yuuri says, smiling at him, bowing in greeting.  
Victor’s uncle - Nikolai - lets out a surprised grunt. It even mellows out the gruff look on his face, making him seem more approachable. Nikolai returns the greeting with a nod of his head, and then usher them inside, muttering under his breath about his nephew finally having found someone polite.   
  
Once inside, a man with hair shaped into a forward-pointing spike appears to greet them and escorts them to a table for two after taking their coats. Victor talks a bit with the man - Georgi - after introducing him to Yuuri, which allows Yuuri to take a look around the restaurant.   
  
There are booths and regular tables with chairs scattered around the room. The wood furniture and floors are all a warm red colour, the walls terracotta brown, the cushioned chairs auburn. The copper light fixtures are equipped with decorative bulbs which throws a warm, golden glow over the space, reflecting their glow out on the crowd waiting outside. All in all, Yuuri feels warm and comforted by the colour scheme, and it reminds him of an autumn forest. Some potted plants and greenery provide the illusion of privacy without minimizing the space.  
  
Just moments after Georgi leaves, a man with short blond hair appears seemingly out of nowhere and proceeds to kiss Victor on both cheeks. Yuuri feels a pang of jealousy of this man who touches Victor so easily, who kisses him with such grace.   
  
Yuuri shrinks in his seat, making himself smaller without intending to, trying not to intrude on what’s happening in front of him. He wonders briefly if he should just get up to leave, that maybe Victor would be better of with this other man with the longest, darkest lashes Yuuri’s ever seen on someone, and a smile bright and big enough to match Victor’s own.   
  
But before Yuuri can come to a decision, Victor makes one for him.  
  
“Yuuri, this is my best friend Chris. Christophe, this is Yuuri, the barista I’ve mentioned.”  
“‘ _Mentioned_ ’, he says as though you’ve not been all he is ever talked about since he first laid eyes on you.” While Victor sputters indignantly and even blushes, Yuuri can feel his own face grow warm and red at the unexpected statement. _I cannot believe Phichit was right!_ Yuuri vows to never admit it to his own best friend, not only because Phichit is the sort of person who would never let it go, but also because Yuuri lacks self-confidence to such a degree he simply cannot bring himself to believe what Chris just told him.  
  
“Nice to meet the infamous barista at last,” Chris says and looks him up and down, and Yuuri feels himself grow impossibly warmer and redder under his gaze. There’s no denying Chris is attractive, and there’s a smolder in his gaze - intentional or not - that makes Yuuri struggle not to squirm in his chair from the sheer power of it.  
  
“Chris. Behave. Don’t scare away our guests” This time the voice belongs to a woman. Yuuri looks up to see the reddest hair he is ever seen, and yet on her it looks perfectly natural. She is sharply dressed in a pantsuit - bright pink with a black belt around her waist. On any other person it might look garish, but she owns it.  
  
“As the boss commands,” Chris says, winking at Yuuri before sauntering away. Yuuri didn’t even have the chance to reply to Chris’ greeting, still reeling from the look in those so very,very green eyes.   
  
“Yuuri?”  
“Are you alright?”  
  
Two voices at the same time; Victor’s and the woman’s. Red fills his vision, and when Yuuri manages to focus on what’s in front him, he looks into deep blue eyes filled with concern. He notices at once they’re not Victor’s eyes, so it stands to reason they must belong to the redhead.  
  
“Yes?” It comes out as a question, and the hand on his shoulder - that he only noticed now - squeeze him in reassurance.   
“I’m sorry about Chris. I know he can be a bit much at times, especially when you first meet him. He does have a tendency to flirt with people, but he means nothing by it.” Victor tells him reassuringly. “Well, he does mean it when it comes to his boyfriend. We all wonder how the poor man can withstand it when Chris decides to turn his charm on. I feel sorry for that poor cat of theirs.”  
  
Both the redheaded woman and Victor shivers at the mere thought, and Yuuri decides right then and there to never give the matter of _Chris_ and _Chris’ boyfriend_ and _Chris’_ _charm_ another thought.  
  
“Victor?” The woman looks at him pointedly, and it dawns on Yuuri that he’s yet to be introduced to the woman Chris referred to as ‘ _boss_ ’.   
“Ah, I’m sorry! Yuuri is the barista I’ve told you about, and this is Mila, the owner of this restaurant and my cousin.” There is pride in Victor’s eyes that tells Yuuri he is clearly fond of his cousin.   
  
Yuuri shakes her hand, a genuine smile on his face as he wonders just how many people Victor will introduce him to tonight. So far it’s been four, two of which are family, and it’s already overwhelming.  
He doesn’t have to wonder long, however, as Mila calls in the rest of her staff to greet Victor and meet Yuuri. Yuuri hoped they won’t see the panic in his eyes, but at least this way he gets to meet the rest of them at once and get it over with, rather than have it dragged out the entire night.  
  
There is Yuri - a cousin of both Victor and Mila who scoffs when he learns Victor’s date shares his name - and his boyfriend Otabek; both of them are chefs. Mickey and Sara are twins; Sara is also a chef, while Mickey is one of the waiters. Emil is another of the waiters, as is Chris. Chris is a long-time friend of Victor’s, while Emil grew up with the twins. It doesn’t take a genius to see Emil and Mickey have a _thing_ going on (or maybe Yuuri’s just observant when it comes to others - but not himself), though it doesn’t yet seem _official_. The same can be said for the looks exchanged between Mila and Sara.  
  
Yuuri feels his breath hitch, his vision narrows and distorts until he can barely see Victor in front of him. Breathing is hard, everything sounds as though through water; distant and impossible to make out.   
  
“Excuse me.” Getting the words out costs him a lot, and he barely makes it to the bathroom before the dam breaks and he’s heaving, fighting to breathe. Yuuri can taste the bile in the back of his throat, but nothing comes up. He thinks he should be used to this by now; the way he’s sweating but feels cold at the same time, shaking at the constricting temperatures, wondering if he is going to pass out this time.  
  
There’s a hand on his back and Yuuri jumps, finding himself sitting on the floor instead of squatting as he’d previously been doing. He feels surprised when he sees the silver-haired man from the coffee shop next to him, almost sitting on the floor himself. Yuuri looks around, confused, for a moment not able to remember where he is or why he’s there.  
  
Then...  
  
“Yuuri?”  
“V… Victor?” He hiccups, and his confusion must bleed through to his voice, because Victor looks at him in such an odd way.   
“Breathe with me. In and out, deep breaths, Yuuri.” Victor takes Yuuri’s face in his hands, pressing his forehead against his. Their mouths are inches apart, Victor’s breath hot against his skin, smelling of coffee and cream.   
  
His entire body shakes, but Yuuri does as Victor told him; taking deep, calming breaths in time with Victor’s own. He feels himself calm down gradually, his own brown eyes locked with Victor’s blue, channeling all his focus on those so very, very blue eyes and the breath washing over him.  
  
The tension bleeds out of him, slowly but surely, the shaking lets up and stops, their foreheads still touch and Victor’s hands on his face feels supportive and comforting.  
  
Yuuri thinks briefly of kissing him, but then Victor speaks.  
  
“What happened? Are you okay? Do you want to leave?” Victor asks, and there is worry in his voice. Yuuri hates himself for making Victor worry, but he can’t exactly tell his anxiety to switch off either. Maybe he should just tell Victor, get it over with, to let him know it’s not his fault.  
  
“I suffer from anxiety,” Yuuri says quietly, looking at the glass of water that is suddenly placed in his hands instead of at Victor. “I can get easily overwhelmed sometimes. It’s not something I can control, and I don’t always know when it will ruin things. Today was... You asked me out, then introduced me to your friends and family. It was all a bit too much all at once.”  
“Yuuri…” Surprisingly, there is no pity in Victor’s voice. Apart from Phichit and his childhood friend Yuuko, everyone have looked at Yuuri with pity when he’s admitted to this part of himself. “You haven’t ruined anything; they all loved you. I shouldn’t have let them all meet you at once, and certainly not in such a short time.”  
“Victor, you don’t have to…”  
“I know it’s unusual to meet friends and family this soon, but we’re so tightly knit and I’m so used to their antics and personalities, I just didn’t think how it would affect you.” Victor smiles gently at him taking both Yuuri’s hands in his own and squeezing them. “I dare say they would intimidate anyone, anxiety or not.”   
  
Warmth blooms in Yuuri’s chest, and he feels tears pricking at his eyes. He swallows, hard, wills his tears away, then looks into Victor’s eyes and finds nothing but sincerity and kindness.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Victor wets some towels, wiping off the salt streaks on Yuuri’s face. There’s nothing to be done about the redness of his eyes, or the puffiness, but hopefully no one will notice.  
  
“Do you still want to eat? Or should I take you home and get you some takeaway? Should I call Phichit?”  
“We’ll stay. I have a snackbar in my pocket for cases like these.”  
“Are you absolutely sure? You don’t have to stay for me.”  
“I’m sure.” Yuuri smiles at Victor, and the warmth in his chest spread at the unexpected kindness from this complete stranger. Well, after what just happened, Yuuri supposes he can’t quite claim they’re strangers anymore.   
  
Yuuri washes his hands and makes sure to eat his snackbar before they return; finding it rude to eat something he brought in to the restaurant, but finding he’s got no choice in the matter.  
As they return to the restaurant, they find everyone but Mila’s returned to the kitchen.   
Then Nikolai opens the door.  
  
“The first group is about to enter, Mila.” Mila looks at her phone, realises it’s time to open. She locks eyes with Victor and he nods at her to let her know it’s been resolved. She thanks her uncle on her way to the kitchen, promising to stop by later to check on Yuuri and Victor.  
  
They have a moment of silence before the door opens and the first guests are ushered in, and Victor once again takes Yuuri’s hand in his, only letting go when Emil comes up to them with their menus.   
  
Yuuri took an instant liking to the young man as soon as he saw him. There’s something about Emil that reminds him about Phichit, about how kind he is, and easy-going, someone who’s easy to befriend.   
  
Whilst Victor hums appreciatively at the names of the dishes, Yuuri finds himself flabbergasted; it might as well all be in some long-lost language, the Czech dishes in particular.  
Mere moments later, Victor’s put down his own menu, seemingly having made up his mind about what he is having.  
Before Yuuri can open his mouth, Victor’s caught on to his apparent distress, judging by the way he’s tensed and focuses his eyes on Yuuri’s own.   
  
“You _are_ okay being here, right? Not just something you said?”  
“Hmmm? Oh, yes!” Yuuri lets out a small laugh. “Just confused by the names of the dishes.”  
  
Victor visibly relaxes in front of his eyes. “That makes sense. Czech is far from easy, but I’ve been involved enough with this place to know what the dishes are. Any preferences?”  
“Pork?” Yuuri lets out a small laugh. “My mom makes this dish called _katsudon_. It’s a breaded pork cutlet bowl, and my favourite dish. But it’s loaded on calories, so I rarely eat it.”   
“Then you should try out this one,” Victor says and points to a dish under the _Swiss_ part of the menu, “or this.” He points to another under the _Czech_ part.  
“What’s the difference?”  
“Don’t know, except that the cordon bleu one includes cheese and ham.”  
  
It’s not easy to decide, Yuuri thinks. Going with a pork schnitzel seems like the safe choice, but at the same time Yuuri knows it wouldn’t hurt him to broaden his horizon when it comes to food. Still, the day’s been filled with too many unknowns, so his best bet would be the safe bet, lest he gets another panic attack. What his mind and body needs is rest, not having to worry about trying out something new.  
  
Yuuri nods, a small smile on his lips, and puts down his menu on top of Victor’s.   
  
“Czech schnitzel?” Victor asks, then laughs and adds “I can’t believe I said it right on the first try!”  
“I’m not even going to try to pronounce that,” Yuuri replies. “But can you say it five times in a row?”   
  
Victor looks ready to take the challenge, but barely has the time to open his mouth before Emil arrives at their table to ask if they’re ready to order. The pout that appears on Victor’s face at the interruption of what Yuuri is sure would have been a great failure - and great entertainment - makes him laugh. Poor Emil looks confused, having arrived too late to hear Yuuri’s offered challenge, but quickly changes his looks into a professional one.  
  
“I’ll have the Moscow Borscht, and a glass of Ontario Pinot Noir.”  
“Number fourteen with pork, please, and a glass of sparkly water.”  
  
Emil lights up at Yuuri’s order. “Excellent choice, Yuuri! I have a strong preference for it myself, and it brings back childhood memories of my grandmother teaching me to make it. I’ll let you in on a little secret; we’re using her recipe.” Then Emil seems to remember he is working, not talking with an acquaintance or friend, and his posture changes; his back straightens after having leaned forward to talk to Yuuri, and he seems less relaxed than he had been a mere moment ago.   
  
Yuuri likes him better for it, the small breaches in character, where the man changes from Emil the waiter to Emil the person.   
He reappears a moment later with their drinks, including a bottle of still water. They both thank him, and Yuuri immediately takes a sip of his water.   
  
“You don’t drink?” Victor asks, then gets slapped in the head by a passing Chris.  
“Victor dear, I thought you knew better than to just ask someone that!” At least Victor manages to look sheepish and apologetic.  
“It’s okay, Chris.” Yuuri takes a deep breath and another sip of his water. Today seems to be a day for honesty. “My dad becomes rather… rambunctious when he gets drunk. Which I inherited from him. And I drink when I get nervous. A lot. And then I do - and say - things I don’t remember the next day. Or if I do, I’d rather not.”  
“I’m sorry...”  
“Don’t be. You’ve just seen me suffer a panic attack, and you still want to be here with me. You not thinking before asking me about drinking is _not_ going to make me think badly of you.”  
  
Yuuri knows he is always different after a panic attack, not quite himself, but tonight he can’t seem to recognise himself. The person sitting here with Victor - virtually a stranger whom Yuuri’s had a crush on since the first time he saw him, whom Yuuri knows nothing about apart from the facts that he is Russian, apparently writes _something_ , and he is got friends and family running a restaurant together.   
  
And yet here Yuuri is. He is told Victor of his anxiety after suffering a panic attack in front of the poor man, and then he proceeds to tell him about how he is like his father when he drinks? It’s enough to make Yuuri regret not opting for alcohol with his own meal. Not that he’d know what to get - mostly he is used to sake anyways - and he’d end up getting shitfaced drunk on his first date. Well, first date with Victor. He’s been out on a couple other dates before, but it never led anywhere.  
  
This time, however, Yuuri wants more. He want to see Victor again, to get to know him better, to know more than just his varied taste in coffee and that he is got a large group of friends and family that encompass one another, all gathered up in this small space.   
  
“So I told you of my favourite dish. What’s yours?” There. He changed the subject to save Victor from doing it himself, and he’s being a good person by asking Victor about himself.  
  
“Stroganoff. My grandfather taught me to make it, and it was the first dish I learnt to make all on my own. We never used a recipe, just threw in however much we wanted of what fits the flavour, and then tasted our way through it until we were satisfied. There are staples, of course, ingredients that are always included, but sometimes you need to substitute, and it’s a helpful learning experience finding out what works and what doesn’t, so sometimes we’d just practice the sauce itself. Not quite the same as when you have the flavour from the meat and the juices of course, but still.”  
  
“I’ve never had stroganoff before,” Yuuri remarks, loving the passion in Victor’s voice, the evidence of how much family means to him.  
“Maybe I can make it for you one day,” Victor suggests, eyes softening for a moment before he frowns. “But with mashed potatoes, not noodles. I’ll never understand Americans and using noodles for stroganoff. How are you supposed to eat all the gravy? Pasta doesn’t suck up fluids like regular or mashed potatoes does.”   
  
They continue to talk about food - ranging from the weirdest stuff they’ve eaten, to what they’d like to try out one day - until their meals arrive.   
  
Yuuri’s schnitzel reminds him a bit of tonkatsu and katsudon, but it’s much flatter. It comes with mashed potatoes and lemon slices, with parsley drizzled on top.   
Victor’s borscht is the reddest food Yuuri’s ever laid eyes on; matching Mila’s hair colour, which makes Yuuri briefly wonder if she told her hairdresser to colour her hair like borscht.   
  
Victor wastes no time digging into his soup, not even blowing on it to cool it down, rather adding a dollop of the sour-cream topping to weigh up for the warmth of it.  
Yuuri just smiles at his antics; he is barely spent any time around Victor but it’s clear the man have some childlike qualities, what with blurting out things and risking burning his tongue on food; too impatient to wait for the temperature to become more suitable.   
  
A comfortable silence settles over them as they eat; the sounds of the other guests a comfortable background hum, coupled with the classical music playing over the speakers.  
  
The schnitzel is rather different from the tonkatsu Yuuri’s used to, but it does taste rather good; in fact, he can see why the restaurant’s using Emil’s grandmother’s recipe, and Yuuri tells Emil as much when he returns to their table to ask how they like the food. It leaves the young man grinning for the remainder of the evening, and Yuuri is glad his small compliment means as much as it does.   
  
It seems he’s made a new friend tonight, and it’s something that’s so unusual for Yuuri that he doesn’t quite know this night managed to contain such polar opposites, not unlike a rollercoaster.   
  
“Would you like a taste?” Victor asks Yuuri after Emil’s left.  
“Okay.” Yuuri had expected to be handed the spoon, so he is caught by surprise when Victor holds it up to him, signaling he’s _feeding_ him.   
  
Now, Yuuri might be far from experienced when it comes to dating - especially at restaurants - but he’s watched enough late-night romantic movies with Phichit to know that this _means something_. He hesitates for a moment, long enough for Victor to start pulling his hand back, but then he decides to just go for it, leaning in and closing his mouth around the red soup, only missing the slight gasp Victor lets out as his tongue darts out and lips close due to the volume in the restaurant, and because he closes his eyes as he does, he doesn’t catch the way Victor’s eyes darken and his pupils dilate slightly.  
  
It’s… different from what he’d expected. Well, not that Yuuri had known what to expect in the first place, but still. It reminds him of the earth, but not in a bad way; if he were to describe it, he’d say red beets taste like the earth smells after it’s been raining. He can taste carrot and onion, with a hint of tomato and garlic. The meet is perfectly tender, and it really does seems like a perfect soup for the cold winter weather.   
  
“I like it,” Yuuri announces, then stops before he can say anything else, confused by the glassy look in Victor’s eyes and the way he stares at the spoon, where Yuuri’s mouth had been just moments before.  
  
“Victor? You there?”  
“What?”  
  
Yuuri can’t help but laugh at him, because Victor looks simply… Yuuri doesn’t quite know how to describe the look on his face, but it is entertaining to say the least.  
  
  
“I thought I lost you for a moment there.”  
“Hmmmmm, just daydreaming.”   
“Something in particular?”  
“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” Victor retorts, smirking at him.  
  
Before Yuuri can even consider pressing the matter, Victor distracts him by stealing the last piece of meat from Yuuri’s own plate.  
  
“Equal exchange?” Yuuri asks, reminded of an anime he watched in his teens.  
“Equal exchange,” Victor mimics, and they laugh.  
  
Moments later, Emil arrives to remove their empty plates, asking if they’d like to see the dessert menu.  
  
“Gladly,” Victor says, then adding to Yuuri “I don’t know about you, but I still have room for some dessert.”  
“Doesn’t hurt to look,” Yuuri replies, smiling at Emil when he presents them with the menus.  
  
“Suggestion,” Victor starts, not even looking at the offered dessert. “How about we pick two and then share it?”  
“Any particular in mind?”  
“Well, I do have a preference for the chocolate mocha truffles.”  
  
Yuuri studies the list of available desserts, asking Victor about the foreign named desserts, and - in the end - settles on a slice of almond torte. At least the berries will weigh up for the rather compact taste of the truffles.  
  
The bowl of truffles barely touch the surface of the table before Victor’s picked up one of them and popped it into his mouth. His eyes snap shut and a low moan escapes him.  
Yuuri sends a silent thankful prayer towards heaven, glad Emil left before he too heard the sound. Especially since Yuuri can feel himself blush - again - at the sound and look of bliss on Victor’s face.  
  
“You have to try one Yuuri!” Victor exclaims, and before Yuuri can react, Victor’s holding one up to Yuuri’s slightly parted lips, and so Yuuri’s left with no choice but to open his mouth to receive the morsel.  
  
“Oh my god!”  
“I know right? They’re made with Mila’s own recipe! She used to be a pastry chef, so she’s behind all desserts here, but this one is purely her own recipe, while the others are family recipes from our family, or the others’. In face,” Victor says, a look of secrecy on his face, “she uses them to bribe people into doing what she wants. That’s how good they are!”  
  
There are both too few and too many bites of truffle, and Yuuri ends up feeling slightly nauseated by all the chocolate, so he quickly takes a piece of strawberry from the torte.   
  
“Now I can see why people enjoy strawberries dipped in chocolate so much,” Yuuri remarks as the sweet taste of the strawberry mixes with the slightly bitter chocolate laced with coffee in his mouth.   
“You’ve never had chocolate dipped strawberries before?” Victor sounds outraged at the mere thought, and before Yuuri can reply, Victor’s off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving a perplexed Yuuri behind.  
  
A couple minutes later, Victor returns, carrying two bowls, a small fondue set containing cream, as well as sticks for dipping. One bowl is filled with strawberries, the other with chocolate.  
He doesn’t waste any time getting to work with melting the chocolate, tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration, waiting for the chocolate to melt, making sure it turns out smooth.  
  
“There, perfect!” Victor exclaims after a few minutes of utter silence from their table, apart from a few hums from Victor.  “Here, you take the first one!”  
  
Yuuri leans forward to accept the halved strawberry, barely in time to stop the chocolate from dripping down his chin.  
  
“Good, yes?” Victor asks, looking very pleased with himself and his idea. Yuuri hums his agreement, and in return a large, heart shaped smile blooms on Victor’s face.  
“But..”  
“But what?” Victor looks confused.  
“I am capable of eating myself, you know.”  
“Yuuri, you wound me!” Victor sound scandalised, clutching his hands over his heart. “Of course I know! It’s just more romantic this way, yes?”   
  
Yuuri blushes, pleased that what occurred earlier that night haven’t made Victor think less of him at all, and that he still seems intent - maybe even more so now than earlier - on wooing him.  
  
“You have a point there.” This time it’s Yuuri who feeds Victor a strawberry, and Victor looks impossibly pleased with himself at that.  
  
Somehow, they manage to finish the strawberries and chocolates, and then the torte. Yuuri cannot for the life of himself remember the last time he ate this much at once, thinking he might just have to forgo breakfast  - and maybe even lunch - the next day, so full is his stomach.  
Then there’s the point that he gains weight easily, and he’s _not_ eaten healthy tonight at all!  
  
When it’s time for them to leave, Yuuri freezes in his seat. He’d forgotten to pay attention to the prices on the menu! He’s got no idea as to how expensive the meals will be, and they split all of three desserts! Yuuri will have to live off of dry noodles, crackers and maybe some broth.  
  
“Victor, I am so so sorry! I know we’re supposed to split the bill and pay for what we ate, but I haven’t got my paycheck yet this month, and I don’t know if I can afford to pay for all this!” Yuuri starts to feel his panic rise again, and he thinks _not now, not again, not when things were going so well_!  
  
“Yuuri. Don’t worry! Breathe; it’ll be okay! I asked you out, so it’s my treat. It’s only right!”  
“Oh no you don’t!” Mila’s suddenly at their table, neither of them having seen or heard her approach. “It’s all on the house. Yuuri, Victor was bound to get a family discount no matter what, but we’ve seen the way you both have been acting around one another, the way Victor almost knocked his cousin to the floor when he ran into the kitchen for the chocolate fondue. You’re good for one another; in fact, I haven’t seen Victor this happy in years. And you made Emil so happy he bounced into the kitchen and kissed Mickey in front of all the others! So tonight, it’s our treat.”  
  
They both stare at her; Yuuri with his mouth open and tears threatening to spill. How did he get so lucky?   
Before he knows it, he is hugging Mila, clinging to her for dear life, willing his tears not to spill over and make a mess of her immaculate outfit.  
  
“Thank you, Mila! Thank you so much! I swear I’ll repay you! I’ll give you all a free coffee each - no matter how fancy -  and a pastry to go with if you drop by where I work!”   
  
She hugs him back after a moment, having been caught off-guard by his sudden outburst.  
Then Victor is there, hugging both of them, drawing the attention of the entire restaurant, which makes Yuuri happy that his face is hidden from view. He’s had more than enough focus on himself tonight to last him a lifetime.  
  
Before they leave, he makes sure they thank everyone who works there, and tells them what he promised Mila; a free coffee and pastry for each, making sure to tell them where he works.  
  
He even gets a hug from Emil when he once again comments on how much he enjoyed his grandmother’s schnitzel, which makes Mickey place a protective arm around Emil’s waist as soon as the hug is over.  
  
Yuuri makes sure to tell them he’ll be sure to tell others about the restaurant, and he promises to be back himself - with or without Victor. That remark makes Victor cling to him, wailing about Yuuri wanting to see his family but not Victor himself. Most of the staff laugh at them at that.  
  
On their way out the door, Yuuri relies the message to Nikolai as well. His reply is a gruff sound that sounds like approval. Well, Yuuri takes what he can get, and waves goodbye to the man as they make their way down the sidewalk.  
  
They hold hands the whole way to Yuuri and Phichit’s apartment; from the moment they’ve put on their coats until they stand on the doorstep. Victor can’t stop lifting their joint hands to his lips so he can press kisses to the back of Yuuri’s hands, eyes sparkling whenever Yuuri looks at him.  
  
Throughout the (very) short time they’ve spent around one another, Yuuri keeps finding himself surprised by Victor. How the man can go from awkward, to serious, to childish, to romantic, and comical and over-the-top.   
  
And Yuuri never wants him to stop.  
  
So he leans up to kiss Victor.   
  
This time, Victor is the one who is surprised, and it takes a moment for him to collect himself before kissing Yuuri back earnestly.  
  
They only break apart when Phichit hollers at them out the window, telling them to get a room. Both Victor and Yuuri blush at that, and Yuuri swears silently that he _will_ find a way to get back at Phichit for interrupting his first kiss with Victor.  
  
But then Victor kisses him again, and Yuuri forgets everything - and everyone - else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ me: If you make Yuuri distracted by Victor then he won't notice the name of the restaurant and then you won't have to come up with a name for it!  
> Me @ me: You have the best ideas!
> 
> PLEASE let me know if you spot any (spelling) mistakes; google docs really isn't the best at correction, it's unbeta'ed, and my spacebar is a bit wonky

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, I would love it if you left a kudos and maybe even a comment, so that I know my work is appreciated. And maybe you'd like to check out some of my other fics too, be it YoI or anything else I write
> 
> Also, you can find me over at tumblr as "grayglacianqueen", or at my writing tumblr as "queenofglaciawrites"


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